


Caipirinha

by hostilecrayon



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-28 22:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/pseuds/hostilecrayon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desmond’s hands are shaking and Shaun stares, the sharp words he’d been ready to deliver at the sight of the cocktail shaker dying stillborn on his tongue as he literally watches him fight to keep his tenuous grasp on reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caipirinha

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble for my round of Valentine's Day gifts. This one is for Lively - averylivelywitch on tumblr.

**Caipirinha**

Desmond’s hands are shaking and Shaun stares, the sharp words he’d been ready to deliver at the sight of the cocktail shaker dying stillborn on his tongue as he literally watches him fight to keep his tenuous grasp on reality. Desmond shows no sign that he knows he is no longer alone, his eyes closed and his lips moving in what proves to be a laundry list of ingredients and the different ways they can be combined to get people rightly wasted.

Shaun moves to assist when it looks like he’s going to drop the damn thing, but Desmond nudges him back with an elbow, the first sign he knows Shaun is there.

“What are we having?” Shaun asks, and Desmond’s eyes fly open, the only sign that he is surprised that Shaun isn’t berating him.

“Caipirinha,” Desmond says slowly, as if he has to make sure he’s got it right.

Fuck if Shaun knows what that is or how Desmond came by what he needs to make it, but he can see Desmond’s eyes clear little by little as he carefully goes through a ritual that was no doubt at one point second nature to him, and Shaun finds he doesn’t even need to think about the next thing out of his mouth. “Make mine a double.”

Desmond’s lips twitch upwards ever so slightly, his hands evening out, the movement of the shaker a little steadier, a bit more fluid, and Shaun knows he’s made the right choice, even if it means come tomorrow morning he’ll change his mind when he finds himself completely knackered.


End file.
